Ryc appears beside me, taking my hand in his.
“I’ll be right here the whole time,” he says, trying to hide the concern in his voice but failing.
His words, the timbre of his voice, wrap around my heart and my ribs tighten. I braid my fingers into his.
Dying isn’t anything new.
But dying beside someone I love is.
It makes all of this harder. Much harder than it should be. The possibility of dying—legitimatelydying—sits heavy on my chest.
I spent centuriesyearningfor death. Now here it sits upon my doorstep and I’m reluctant to answer. Even if I survive, who I amnow, in this moment, will not.
Eve and Cyran appear on either side of Ryc. Cyran nods, his jaw clenching. Eve offers me a weak smile.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t run off,” she teases quietly and Ryc scoffs quietly.
“You have your bloodstone?” I ask, scanning her hip and holster.
She’s well armed, wearing both the bloodstone dagger I gave her as well as the throwing knives supplied by Cenviri. A small wash of relief trickles through my veins.
“Do not trust your eyes,” I say, keeping my voice low.
Cenviri’s voice floats into the ritual space from the doorway. He’s likely giving similar instructions to his Generals.
“Do not listen to the call. Do not follow the pull. And if a Death Bringer appears, do not hesitate,” I say, giving each of them a firm stare.
Because my siblings won’t hesitate.
We’re taught not to.
If any of our names are on a reaping list, I want whatever sibling Vaelyn sends to earn his wrath.
“This better work,” Eve says in Malbolge, her voice growing tight. “I’m not bringing you flowers.”
I scoff a laugh as tears sting behind my eyes. “Keep your mortal traditions far from me,” I reply.
“It’s time,” Cenviri says, appearing on my right. Zirzol takes his place beside him. “If you would step back from the altar.”
With reluctant, departing glances, Eve and Cyran vanish from my sight and I force myself to stare at the candles.
Ryc pitches over me, placing his brow against mine. “This will work,” he says softly.
He claims my lips and my hand races to his hair, locking him against me.
“You’ll survive, I promise,”his voice rings in my mind as he breaks our kiss, his lips lingering over mine.“Eternity awaits us, little love.”
He gives my hand a gentle squeeze as he straightens himself and unweaves his fingers from mine. In a few backward steps, he vanishes, and once again, I force myself to stare above.
“Ready,il-akiv?” Cenviri asks gently.
I nod.
“Have faith,” he says in Malbolge, placing a cold hand over mine. “In Fate. There’s reason you’re the half she’s chosen. More than that…” his eyes lock with mine. “Have faith in yourself, Vestaris. Light take your enemies,” he says, relieving me of his icy touch.
“Shadows keep you safe,” I say, taking a small comfort in the familiarity of the exchange.
Shadows keep them all safe.
